


Drift

by SomnificSheep



Series: Every Day I'm Tumblin' [11]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Autistic Hatake Kakashi, Developing Relationship, M/M, Mutual Pining, Sharing a Bed, Snowed In, Trans Hatake Kakashi, Trans Umino Iruka, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-24 21:27:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22084774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomnificSheep/pseuds/SomnificSheep
Summary: Uhei, Bull, and Bisuke eventually wander in from their perch on his bed to settle by his side, noses freezing as they seek out his company. It’s so much easier with them, because they take what he has to give and multiply it tenfold. There’s no worrying that they’ll reject him, no worrying that they don’t feel the same, because they don’tfeelin the same way Iruka does.It’s what he loves about them, but he can’t help the way he craves something more.Something to fill the space he’s carved out for another person inside his chest.
Relationships: Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka
Series: Every Day I'm Tumblin' [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1441588
Comments: 20
Kudos: 118





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Caped-Ace (PsychopompSentinel)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PsychopompSentinel/gifts).



> Caped-ace asked for the prompt "I love snow days because it means that you trek across town to hang out with me and watch movies on the couch, except this time you demand to know who I’m crushing on and I don’t know how to say _you_ " with KakaIru, and I couldn't resist. Definitely a little rusty with these two, but I miss them. Many thanks ❤❤
> 
> If you want some extra mood music (that I highly recommend listening to), [Sentimental](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t8eQ1m1UGFA) by WMD is what I was listening to while this was written!

The amount of people Kakashi generally allows into his space can be counted on one hand. He’s long since learned that people often bring disappointment, or a vague sense of unease with their personalities shifting below a placid face that assures him everything’s all right. It’s easier, he thinks, to give himself to the dogs and whatever captures his interest at any given moment.

Snow falls soft outside, blanketing the world in white and stealing even the noises of the house settling as he sits on the couch, one arm curled to his chest and the other draped across Pakkun’s back. His fingers give the occasional twitch, as though _trying_ to give the poor pug a pet, but everything is so still, so calm, that it almost feels like a sin to break it with the scratch of nails across fur. 

The world has narrowed to him and the dog and the blanket he’s under, and he closes his eyes and tips his head back as he basks in the silence.

His thoughts, though few, are loud over the whispering rush of his heartbeat in his ears. If he tries, he can narrow it down to a single thread that wraps him in wanting--he wants one person, and that person is the only one he’d be willing to share these precious moments where sense falls away into sensation with. 

Wind whistles low outside, an echo of the faint loneliness that sits on Kakashi’s heart wherever he goes. It sounds like a lost soul, searching for a place to rest and a place where it is _understood._ Kakashi knows all too well the feeling of drifting aimlessly, of picking up and whisking himself away at a moment’s notice. He feels a kinship with the force that powers town and tempest alike, though he’ll never admit it out loud.

He enjoys these days off, free of responsibilities and the children he’s been tasked with educating. There’s nothing to force him into some facade of normalcy here, not under this roof and in this space he’s carved for himself away from the rest of the world.

His body aches with the want to feel Iruka by his side, to feel the warm weight of an arm that glides effortlessly around shoulders that take on too much. Kakashi _misses_ him on days like today, because of the few people he allows himself to draw close to, Iruka has become his favorite. He’s become the one Kakashi expects to see in the morning when he arrives at school, and the last one he bids goodbye to as he walks out the doors.

Sometimes Iruka comes over on snow days, or when Kakashi’s tired of the rest of the world falling away. If Kakashi is the wind above, then Iruka is the sea below. He seeps into every crack of Kakashi’s life like cool water, easing the aches and pains of what Kakashi’s held to himself for far too long. He allows Kakashi to swim deep and suss out what’s hidden in his depths, and at the same time, he allows Kakashi to float, weightless as he surrenders himself to a friend’s presence.

A friend who Kakashi wishes wasn’t _just_ a friend. 

His cell phone lights up on the coffee table, cutting through the dimness with the light of Iruka’s scarred face. Kakashi’s smile matches Iruka’s in the contact photo as he picks up.

“ _Hey!”_ Iruka says before Kakashi has a chance to speak. “ _Down for a movie day? I figure it’s been a while, and the storm’s stopped for now, so if you’re free, I’ve got the extended Lord of the Rings movies and some snacks with your name on them.”_

_“_ I’d like that,” Kakashi says quietly, but loud enough to earn himself a dissatisfied grunt from Pakkun as he’s roused from sleep. “We’ll be waiting.”

“ _Be there in twenty. Or, well, probably forty, with how the roads are looking.”_ Kakashi hears the clatter of blinds, and then a low growl as Iruka lets them fall. “ _I swear, they don’t do any plowing until the last possible minute.”_

_“_ I’m sure they’re attacking the highways and main roads first,” Kakashi says. “You’ll be safe?”

“ _Can’t be an elementary teacher without thinking safety, am I right?”_ Iruka asks, and Kakashi hums out a soft laugh. 

“ _Shouldn’t,”_ he corrects. “We’ve both seen our fair share of unsafe things at work, hm?”

“ _Yeah, yeah, shouldn’t,”_ Iruka says. Kakashi can hear the smile in his voice. “ _I’ll be over there before eleven, at any rate. Get ready for your mind to be blown.”_

Kakashi would tell Iruka he always manages to blow his mind if he could, but the words tangle in his throat and before he can untangle them, he’s said his goodbyes and set the phone back on the table. Pakkun looks up at him when he presses his hands over his face, groaning.

“I know, I know,” he sighs. “Some day, Pakkun. Some day I’ll say it.”

_Some day,_ like he hasn’t been wishing for that someday for months now. 

He flops back onto the couch and pulls the blanket over his eyes, shutting the world out as his brow knits in irritation. It should be simple, shouldn’t it? All the movies, all the books, the articles, the stories people tell him--it’s so easy to love, but no one ever says how hard it is to keep that love trapped inside your chest where it lights up every part of you.

Uhei, Bull, and Bisuke eventually wander in from their perch on his bed to settle by his side, noses freezing as they seek out his company. It’s so much easier with them, because they take what he has to give and multiply it tenfold. There’s no worrying that they’ll reject him, no worrying that they don’t feel the same, because they don’t _feel_ the same way Iruka does.

It’s what he loves about them, but he can’t help the way he craves something more.

Something to fill the space he’s carved out for another person inside his chest. 

Iruka’s knock on the door comes too quickly, pulling Kakashi back to the real world with a soft noise of shock. He scrambles and nearly plants his face into the door as he trips over the blanket tangling his ankles, then the dogs rushing to see who dares disturb their quiet day with master. 

“It’s just me, no worries,” Iruka assures them as he wades through the sea of fur. “And no, I don’t have treats for you now, you’ll have to wait until I dig them out of here.” He shakes the strap of his bag, and Kakashi falls just a little more in love at the simple gesture and the way Iruka’s gaze is teasing as it meets his. “I’ve got other things to worry about before feeding all of them, right?”

“Right.” Kakashi swallows hard, sweeping his arm down the hallway and watching as Iruka takes off his boots and pads down the hall in ridiculous, fluffy socks. He follows after to see the other man plopping the bag down on the counter and pulling out all sorts of snacks before finally calling the dogs for theirs.

“You thought I would come without some presents for you,” he coos as they lap at his fingers. “How heartless do you think I am?”

_Not at all_ catches on Kakashi’s tongue, held back by teeth that are just a little too large and lips that pull to the side from his scars. Instead, he picks up Pakkun and hides behind his face. “The worst,” he says gruffly. “How dare you not pay attention to us immediately?”

Iruka’s smile is somehow loud amongst the jangling collars, even before he lets his head tip back with a hearty laugh. “The worst,” he agrees. “If you want to go start these--” He hands the DVDs to Kakashi. “I can get the popcorn and some bowls ready. Have snacks, will sit on couch and lounge with you all day.” 

Kakashi can’t help but smile back, ducking his head as he feels a flush spreading across his cheeks. “Hands first,” he says, and mimics rinsing his own. “I know where those mouths have been.”

“Terrible places, I’m sure.”

“Uhei was chewing on a dead rabbit late last night,” Kakashi says. “And I think Bull got some of it, too.” When he looks up, Iruka’s got a weird look on his face, and he kicks himself for oversharing. “You didn’t need to know that.”

“I mean, I _do_ prefer thinking of them as little angels who can do no wrong, but...I like it when you tell me about your days,” Iruka says. “What else did they do?”

“Not much,” Kakashi mumbles as he turns and flees to the living room. His fingers tremble as he takes out the disc and puts it in, the whining hum of the TV loud enough in his ears to drown out the _whoosh_ of his pulse. He very briefly considers taking his binder off so he can just _breathe,_ but the sound of Iruka leaning against the doorframe has him reconsidering. 

“Everything okay?” he asks quietly.

Kakashi takes a deep breath, pasting a smile on as the DVD menu comes up. It’s an excuse not to look at the way he’s sure Iruka’s eyes are creased in concern, and he takes advantage. “Yeah, just really didn’t do much besides find the rabbit,” he says. He hears popping from the microwave, as well as the jingle of a collar and Iruka whispering incoherent nonsense to a dog. “Just went on a walk. It was cold.”

“I think we’re supposed to get another round of storms tonight,” Iruka muses. “Probably be colder, with all the snow to melt into your clothes.”

That’s another thing Kakashi could go without during the winter, and he says as much before Iruka retreats at the _ding_ of the microwave. 

“I doubt it’s pleasant for anyone,” Iruka calls from the kitchen over the sound of Kakashi dragging blankets off of the side chairs and to the couch. “After all, I--” he waltzes in with Kakashi’s stainless mixing bowl in one hand and a package of cookies in the other-- “really prefer to get wet of my own accord.”

Two seconds too late, after he’s already nodded seriously, Kakashi registers the gleam in Iruka’s eye. “Oh,” he manages, nearly choking. “Yeah, me, I, uh, yeah, me too.”

Iruka winks, and Kakashi’s stomach twists with want and nerves in equal measure. Instead of acting on it, he perches on the opposite end of the couch from Iruka and pulls his blanket over his shoulders as some pitiful protection. Fantastic beasts and rolling hills fill the screen as the movie begins, and their hands alternate digging in the bowl between them.

After a time, Kakashi’s heart slows to a dull thud in his ears, and he allows himself a glance over at Iruka. The other man’s face is lit with the bright light of the mid-afternoon sun streaming through the blinds, their shadows dancing when Bisuke’s tail accidentally knocks into them as he dreams on the floor. Of all the things Kakashi thinks he could be grateful for about Iruka, he thinks the scar that cuts across his nose is one of the things he appreciates most.

He doesn’t know the story of it, nor does Iruka know the story of his, but it’s something that ties them together, even if it makes Iruka handsome and Kakashi...well, Iruka called it _rugged_ once, but Kakashi hasn’t found it in himself to love the way knotted tissue carves across his face.

When Kakashi gets up to begin the second movie and Iruka gets up for the bathroom, Kakashi lets out a slow, wavering sigh. The storm outside has started up again, the wind more of a high whistle than a mournful howl as it slams against the side of the house. He asks Iruka about it when he gets back, and Iruka plants himself back on the couch.

“I’d rather stay here, if that’s okay.”

“It might be dangerous later,” Kakashi says, no force behind the protest.

Iruka notices, and Iruka grins. “Are you trying to get rid of me so soon, Kakashi?”

“No,” Kakashi says, looking over with a crooked smile. “I like you here.”

Iruka’s soft sigh of pleasure will haunt Kakashi’s dreams tonight, smoothing away the rattle of the wind on the shutters and the clattering of ice on the siding. “Good,” he says softly, “because I like being here with you.”

Kakashi doesn’t know what to say to that, and so he remains quiet as he sits back on the couch and presses play. A soaring theme rises to send a shiver down his spine, and when Iruka’s fingers brush against his in the snack bowl, he tells himself it’s still just the music. It has to be, because Iruka _likes_ being here. He didn’t say he loves it, or enjoys it…

He _likes_ it, and that’s enough for Kakashi today.

The storm outside begins to truly rage around the Battle of Helm’s Deep, whipping snow and ice into an impenetrable shield around them as Iruka moves the bowl into his lap and shuffles closer to Kakashi. 

Kakashi remains still, silent, because he thinks that if he so much as breathes, Iruka might wake up and realize exactly what he’s doing. He doesn’t want him to. He wants Iruka to keep his head on his shoulder, because that’s one weight he doesn’t mind carrying. He wants Iruka’s heat to warm him even through the layers of clothes and blankets, because it’s cold with the storm, and he likes the way it makes light bloom out from the middle of his chest. 

He wonders if Iruka knows exactly how much he cares, how many layers of discomfort he’s managed to push through to get to the point of _enjoying_ this. Iruka’s hair tickles his neck and as Kakashi listens to the quiet noises of contentment fade to the deep, even breathing of Iruka at rest, he hopes that one day he might be able to wake to that same sound. 

The movie ends, but Iruka doesn’t wake. 

Kakashi lets him sleep. He needs it--he’s got an almost superhuman ability to stretch himself past the point of thin and straight into nothingness, and Kakashi knows he’s up at all hours of the night working on projects to better the classroom he puts so much of his time into already. Once, he told Kakashi that coming over was his down-time and that he appreciated the invitations. Kakashi hasn’t forgotten the way the other man’s eyes crinkled with the force of his smile as he’d clapped a hand on Kakashi’s shoulder and laughed at the shocked expression on his face. 

There comes a point where Kakashi begins to worry they’re going to stay here all day, because the dogs are beginning to dance around the door like they do when they need to go out. He very carefully tries to push Iruka up to sit by himself, but doesn’t _quite_ get there before standing, and Iruka faceplants into the couch only to wake with a sputter.

“Kakashi?” he asks blearily, rubbing at his eyes as Kakashi stands there, wringing his hands. “What’s up?”

“The dogs need to go out,” Kakashi says. “But you were sleeping, and I didn’t want to wake you up, but I didn’t want to leave them, and--”

“Thank you,” Iruka interrupts, effectively stopping the spiral of explanation. His hair falls in his eyes as he sits up and ruffles it. “How long was I out?”

“About an hour and a half after the movie ended,” Kakashi says.

Iruka waves him toward the dogs before covering a yawn with the back of his hand. “You could’ve woken me up, I wouldn’t have minded. I didn’t come here to sleep.”

_No, you came here to rest,_ Kakashi thinks as he leashes everyone, _and if I can do one thing for you, it’s allow you time for that._

When he opens the door, he realizes the Christmas songs are right. A fire _would_ be delightful, because the storm’s frightening in its intensity. The dimming sun is almost whited out by the force of the gale that’s swept snow against the door and effectively stopped any traffic on the roads, and Kakashi’s breath is stolen away by the frigid winds. 

Iruka doesn’t fare much better, if his muttered _holy shit_ is anything to go by. He walks up behind Kakashi and leans against the door, gnawing on his lip. “Well, I didn’t think it’d get _this_ bad.”

“You, um, didn’t happen to bring any extra clothes?” Kakashi asks. “I...don’t think you’re leaving any time soon.”

“So threatening,” Iruka murmurs, but when Kakashi looks back worriedly, there’s only mirth in his eyes. “Are you asking me to stay the night?”

“I-I’m--” Kakashi gapes for a second before turning back to the dogs, watching them attempt to find a proper place to do their business. “No. Yes? I...I don’t--” He’s cut off by a loud _pop_ from somewhere in the vicinity, and then the _whoosh_ of electricity fading from the block. “Uh…”

“Well, fuck,” Iruka says for him. He steps closer and puts a hand on Kakashi’s shoulder in the near-darkness, peering out to see what he can. _“Can_ I stay here tonight?”

“I don’t want you getting hurt out there,” Kakashi says.

“Is that a yes?”

Kakashi decides that in this moment, an indulgence is worth it. “It’s a please,” he says softly. “Please stay safe with me.”


	2. Chapter 2

The way Iruka lights up at the request makes Kakashi’s chest twist. He’s so eager, so happy about it, that Kakashi takes a step back because it’s too much with the wind whistling and the dogs bounding about in the snow. 

Iruka’s happiness is a thing of beauty, but it’s a beauty Kakashi thinks he might need to experience in small doses.

“I’d love to,” Iruka says, and  _ that,  _ thankfully, is quiet. His presence dulls to a low roar in the middle of the hallway before he darts away as the dogs track snow into the house. It’s perfect, Kakashi thinks, the way he turns on the very tips of his toes, as though he’s a dancer. His ponytail flies out behind him and in the darkness, he herds the dogs into the living room as Kakashi hangs their leashes. 

“Do you have any candles?” Iruka calls. “Extra blankets? Actually, what’s your heating situation?”

“Electric.”

“Best get any thick ones, then,” Iruka says, stuffing his hands into the pocket of his hoodie. “Maybe change into sweatpants instead of jeans. Is it okay if I use some of your clothes? It’s uh, not like I brought my own.” He ducks his head slightly, looking at Kakashi from under his lashes as Kakashi draws near. “It’s all right if not.”

“What’s mine is yours,” Kakashi blurts, just a little too loudly. “They’re in the, the bedroom.” He jerks his thumb toward the door guarding his innermost life and shuts his eyes, waiting for Iruka to breeze past him as he’s so wont to do. When he doesn’t, Kakashi crinkles his nose in confusion. “I said clothes are in the bedroom, Iruka.”

“Kakashi,” Iruka says. He reaches to run the back of his hand down Kakashi’s arm as he takes a step forward. “I’m not just going to barge into your space.”

“I’d let you.”

“I won’t.” Iruka’s body radiates warmth and vitality in a way Kakashi can only hope to mimic one day, and Kakashi cracks an eye to see a gentle, searching smile on his face. “Candles and blankets first, and then we can figure out what else we need to do. And food, unless you’re full from the popcorn.”

“You ate a lot of it,” Kakashi points out.

“So that means you’re hungry?”

“No.” As though it can sense what’s going on, Kakashi’s stomach gives a low growl, and he wilts. “Maybe. It’s not really filling, you know, that’s why it’s a snack. Unless you make it like they do in the theater, and even then, it’s still not--” He bites his tongue and turns to the kitchen, rifling through the junk drawer until his fingers catch on one of the several lighters he’s got stored. 

There’s candles in the cupboard above the fridge, left over from his father’s funeral the previous year. He doesn’t like the way candlelight has come to mean grief to him. Where once he’d set out candles at night to read by, now they remind him of the way shadows danced over a corpse’s face during the wake. Where once he’d looked into the flames and been warmed by their light, now there’s only a frigid emptiness in his heart.

Perhaps with Iruka, he can make a new memory to replace the feeling.

His fingers tremble as he flicks the lighter once, twice before it ignites. He sighs in relief because he’s not sure if he can work with another thing going wrong, not right now. 

Well, maybe not  _ wrong. _

Unexpected.

It’s the unexpected things he takes an issue with.

The wick lights as Iruka falls to rest against the wall. Kakashi hopes his departure wasn’t too sudden, too  _ much,  _ and lights another candle to hand to Iruka. He swallows hard as the other man’s face is lit with gold, a physical manifestation of the glow that seems to surround him wherever he goes.

When he doesn’t speak, Iruka does. “Are you all right?”

“I’m…”  _ Frustrated. Irritable. Longing. Needy.  _ “I’m okay,” Kakashi says, because that’s normal. It follows protocol--you have to pretend you’re fine because no one really is, but no one wants to help you  _ be  _ fine. “I’m okay,” he says, because maybe one more time will help him get used to the idea.

Iruka smiles over his candle as he holds it close to his face. “Blankets?”

“There’s a few extra in the hall closet, but they’re itchy,” Kakashi says. “I’ll go get the comforters.”

“And we can put the itchy ones on top of the comforter.” Iruka taps his temple with a finger before turning away, humming the whimsical theme of the Hobbits. “You’re lucky I’m here to do the heavy thinking,” he teases from the hall. “You might have frozen, otherwise.”

“I sleep with the dogs. I’m usually warm,” Kakashi says, and Iruka comes back with one arm full and the other hand still holding the candle. “I don’t have many things to do. I’m sorry.”

“Ah, I’m sure we can find something. Was that Scrabble I saw in the closet?” Iruka asks. “Bet I can whip your ass.”

Kakashi perks up at that, and he  _ tells  _ himself it’s because of the promise of playing against someone other than himself. “Doubt it.”

“Why?”

Mimicking Iruka’s tapping, Kakashi tries for a smile. “Walking dictionary.”

Iruka does his best to point at himself. “Walking Google master who reads encyclopedias for fun,” he says, so endearingly that Kakashi’s smile threatens to split his face in two as Iruka clicks his tongue. “He  _ doubts it,”  _ he says. “Go get it down. I’ll show you.”

The dogs huddle close to Kakashi as he makes his way to the bedroom, doing his best to clean up what he can of the odds and ends littering his dressers. He’ll probably regret undoing the careful organization come morning, but if Iruka’s staying, then Iruka needs a place to sleep, and Kakashi wasn’t raised to give the couch to friends.

Iruka will stay in his bed.

_ Hopefully. _

Iruka’s puttering around in the cabinets when Kakashi comes back out, looking every bit like an overgrown child. His tongue peeks out between his lips as he stands on his toes to reach the top shelves, Bull’s bulk threatening to throw him off balance when the dog realizes Iruka’s near the place treats magically appear from. When he shoves his nose into the strip of skin bared by Iruka’s sweatshirt, Iruka squeaks. “Cold,” he yelps. “Please don’t.”

“That’s not a command he knows,” Kakashi says, startling him.

“Kakashi,” Iruka says, a bit shaky as he leans against the counter. “I was looking for something for you to eat.”

Kakashi points at the bank of cabinets to Iruka’s right. “There’s granola bars, canned veggies, and other stuff in that one,” he says. “Unless you’re planning on feeding me dog food.”

Iruka chuckles awkwardly, putting a hand on his nape. “Not really.”

“I like the almond bars best,” Kakashi says. He turns away and urges the dogs to follow him as he walks into the living room and puts a hand to his chin, wondering the best way to set up the game. The couch would be more comfortable to sit on, but then their letter tiles would be easily visible. The arm chairs might scuff the floors if he drags them, and the end table between them isn’t big enough to set up a board on.

“If I take the couch apart, maybe…”

“Is the middle of a blackout the best place to start tearing apart your house?” Iruka asks from behind him. A wrapper crinkles as he presses the bar into Kakashi’s hand, ripping open his own as they stare together. “I mean, it’s an  _ idea,  _ but--”

“For sitting on,” Kakashi interrupts. “I like things the way they are.”

“Ah.” Iruka makes a small hum of satisfaction as he bites into the granola bar, urging Kakashi to do the same. The candlelight reflects off of his skin, and Kakashi thinks it’s almost as though he’s the sun. He’s so  _ light,  _ so kind, so whole and  _ warm  _ as he lets Kakashi bloom under his watchful gaze. 

He’s happy Iruka chose to be here with him today, and he mumbles as much as he takes the cushions off and sets one on each side of the coffee table. Iruka fiddles with the blankets until he’s satisfied they both have an equal share, then retrieves the game with a quiet, knowing smile on his face.

They settle as the house does, sighing in tandem as the wood around them creaks and groans under the weight of its burden. The dogs lay scattered around them in various states of unease--Bull is out like a light, Uhei’s tail thumps nervously on the floor as Iruka pets him, Bisuke sits at attention, and Pakkun crawls into the safe tent of Kakashi’s blanket to shiver as the wind howls. The board in front of them sits empty as they divide pieces, and then Kakashi is pleasantly surprised to find that Iruka  _ is  _ a good match for his skills.

Three games pass, seemingly in the blink of an eye, before Kakashi realizes his eyelids are beginning to droop. The candles have burned low, their light and heat fading away with the hours, and he notices Iruka’s sharing his blankets with the other three dogs to protect them from the cold. 

“It’s been a while with no power,” Iruka says softly. He tucks the blanket closer under his chin and rests his head on folded knees so only his eyes peek out. “And you’re getting tired.”

“We should stay up to see if it comes back on,” Kakashi says around a yawn. He’s not confident it will, because while the storm seems to have let up a bit, it’s still going. Pakkun whines as Kakashi stands, depositing him onto the cushion before walking to peer out the window. He can’t see much by the light of the moon, but the wind drops for a time and he squints to see drifts piled high, the cars on the street barely visible under the white. Under a streetlight, it would probably look like something out of one of the cheesy Christmas movies Rin used to make him watch. As it is, it sends a shiver through him. 

Iruka whistles--barely, but better than he could before Kakashi taught him--as he comes into Kakashi’s space once again.  _ “Wow.  _ That’s a lot of snow.”

“Mn.”

Fabric whispers as Iruka rests a hand on Kakashi’s shoulder, followed quickly by his head. Kakashi watches as his eyes scan the scene before flicking up to catch Kakashi’s gaze. “Do you really want to stay up? I doubt with this--” he gestures to the banks-- “that anyone’s going to be working tonight. And school will probably be closed tomorrow, too.”

“And maybe the next day,” Kakashi whispers. He can only hope that maybe Iruka will stay until then, but doesn’t speak his desire. Iruka’s close enough like this, he tells himself. He can content himself with nestling his scars into the soft frown of Iruka’s head, sinking into Iruka’s weight until they’re propping each other up in the darkness.

“Kakashi?” Iruka murmurs, and Kakashi makes an inquisitive noise from deep in his chest. “Can I ask you something?”

Iruka never asks before questioning. Even the things Kakashi is uncomfortable with, or doesn’t know how to answer, Iruka  _ doesn’t ask.  _ He boldly goes ahead and dares to ask what others don’t, because he values honesty, but more importantly,  _ openness.  _ Kakashi is chilled again, by fear this time. It pools at the base of his spine, replacing the slight heat that's gathered with every passing moment in Iruka’s presence, and he nods mutely, waiting for the world to come crashing down.

“Have you ever been in love?”

“Have I-- _ why _ would you ask me that?” It comes out much quicker, much harsher than intended, and Iruka immediately pulls away.

“Sorry, I just--”

“Yes,” Kakashi interrupts, because already, he can  _ feel  _ the hurt radiating from the other man. “I’m sorry. Yes. I have, sorry.” He shrinks back into the wall at Iruka’s puzzled look as he tries frantically to pick up the pieces of the moment he’s shattered. “I am. In, in, in love. I’m in love. I didn’t mean that. I love--” His brow knits where he presses it against the wall, ring finger tapping out an overly familiar rhythm on his palm in the seconds he tries and fails to get his metaphorical feet under him. “I can. I can love. I  _ do.  _ I’m sorry.”

Iruka’s eyes are wary, but his fingers are warm where they brush against Kakashi’s free hand. “Don’t be,” he says softly, looking at the floor between them. “It was a surprise. You don’t like those.”

“No, I don’t.”

_ “I’m  _ sorry,” Iruka breathes. “I should know better.”

“Me too,” Kakashi says, because he  _ should.  _ Playing with fire will get you burned, and it’s all he can do now to make sure there’s no lasting scars from this flame between them. And because he does nothing half-heartedly, he lets the blankets fall to the floor as he shocks Iruka with a tight hug. “I know better than to let someone I…”

Does he want to cross this bridge tonight?  _ Should  _ he?

No, but he does anyway.

“Love,” he continues, and Iruka stiffens. “I shouldn’t spend the night with them. Not without being honest.”

“You love _ me.”  _ When Iruka pulls back, blinking rapidly, Kakashi gulps.

“I think so, yes.”

_ “Kakashi.”  _ It’s Iruka who hugs first this time, fitting his forehead into the junction of Kakashi’s neck as they sway back and forth. Kakashi fidgets, both because there’s a freezing nose nudging at his hand and the fact that Iruka isn’t saying anything else, only digging his fingers into Kakashi’s shoulders. 

“Iruka?” he says slowly. “You’re squashing my chest and it hurts.”

The relief he feels when Iruka lets him go is only the prelude to what he feels when Iruka tells him that he’s glad Kakashi felt safe enough to tell him, and that he’s loved in return. “We should get you out of that, too,” he says, gesturing to his own chest. “I don’t miss those days.”

“I don’t like doctors,” Kakashi says by way of explanation. “So, uh...better than…” He makes a cutting motion and clicks his tongue, looking away.

“Ahh,” Iruka says knowingly.

“Yup.” Kakashi knits his hands and leans back against the wall, gaze bouncing everywhere but where he can feel Iruka staring from. He pulls his lip between his teeth and begins to chew before Bull ambles over to press a large head into his thigh, which serves to give him something to  _ do  _ under the weight of Iruka’s eyes as he kneels to pet him. “Yup,” he repeats, because what do you say,  _ do _ after admitting you feel  _ more  _ for your best friend than friendship?

_ Fuck him  _ comes immediately to mind, but he doesn’t think he wants to take Icha Icha’s advice. When he digs deeper into the desire clouding his mind, he finds that what he wants, what he  _ really  _ wants, is something small, yet impossibly large.

“I want to go to bed with you,” he says into Bull’s neck. Iruka doesn’t hear him, and kneels to ask again. “I want to go  _ to bed  _ with you, I said. Like, to sleep. With you. In my bed. Together.”

“I got it,” Iruka says, a hint of a light laugh dancing across the three syllables. “Why don’t you go change and I’ll let the dogs out one last time, okay?” He tentatively rests a hand on Kakashi’s shoulder again, and Kakashi not only lets him, he leans into it. “Hey.”

Kakashi looks at him.

“You look good with moonlight on your hair,” he continues. “Handsome.”

Kakashi flushes and hides his face behind a shoulder as he pushes Bull toward Iruka. “Outside,” he says, knowing it’ll excite the animals. Iruka’s nearly bowled over by Uhei smacking into his knees, but pats Kakashi’s shoulder one last time before disappearing into the white beyond the door.

His room is blacker than midnight during a thunderstorm, and he fumbles his way to the dresser before quickly stripping. Jeans are replaced by worn sweatpants, his shirt with an old long sleeved tee. There’s a long moment he debates going without anything else, but decides that might tip him over into the territory of  _ too much  _ and tugs on a sports bra. The bed creaks as he sits on the edge and feels for any stray water bottles or dog toys hiding to disturb Iruka’s rest. When he finds none, he snatches what blankets he can find from the living room floor and arranges them the best he can in the dark. 

The slamming door and Iruka’s cursing about the cold have his heart leaping into his throat. He’s known this moment’s been coming since the first time Iruka walked into the school building. Well, he’s  _ hoped,  _ at least, but now that it’s here, he finds himself clenching the excess fabric of his pants in his fists as he waits. 

“Bed’s made,” he says the second he hears Iruka step in. “Extra clothes are in the middle drawer.” He pats the top of the dresser, hoping Iruka will find it, and moves quickly to sit on the bed. When he hears the drawer open, his eyes slam shut. “I’m not looking, I promise.”

“Kakashi, you couldn’t see anything anyway,” Iruka says, then pauses. “But thank you. I appreciate that.”

“I try.”

“You’re really something else,” Iruka says over the rustling of fabric. “How many blankets? I’m freezing.”

Kakashi does a mental tally. “Five. Two more than usual.” The mattress sinks as Iruka’s weight settles next to him, perched primly on the edge. “I like the weight.”

“I’m sure the dogs help, too.”

“You’ll probably end up with a foot or three in your face,” Kakashi says, apologetic. “They’re used to having me alone. Pakkun is a particularly awful bed hog.”

“Aw, not the little one,” Iruka says as he flops backward. “It’s really not Bull?”

“He sleeps on the floor, so be careful if you get up in the middle of the night. He doesn’t like his paws stepped on.” Kakashi lays backward with him, careful not to land on his face. It wouldn’t do either of them any good for Iruka to have a bloody nose. Iruka’s arm flexes under his neck, and he turns his face toward the other man’s shoulder. “Sometimes I have nightmares, too. About the accident. They help.”

Iruka reaches over to trace a finger from Kakashi’s cheek down to his lip, then back again until it settles just over his eyebrow. “Is that what this is?”

Kakashi nods, silent. 

“I’m so sorry.”

“Mhmm.” Kakashi sits up with a soft groan, pulling Iruka with him before tugging back the covers and crawling in with his back against the wall. “It was a while ago. But Inoichi says that the brain is weird.” He lets his fingers rest along the line of Iruka’s spine as Iruka tucks the blankets around himself, sealing them both in a cocoon of heat and promise. “Healing isn’t...logical. It’s not linear.”

“No,” Iruka agrees.

Kakashi shuffles closer when Iruka doesn’t move, hesitantly putting an arm around his stomach and celebrating internally when he doesn’t pull away. It’s easier with every passing second to be this close, and the rhythm of Iruka’s breathing soothes away many of his insecurities that threaten to spill out of him and into this glorious silence.

When he's sure Iruka's asleep, he whispers into the hair on his nape. “I want to kiss you, and I want to make sure you always know that I care, even if it seems like I don’t. And I hope this isn’t just something that’s going to go away when the power comes back on.” He does, desperately, and presses his lips to the dip just below Iruka’s ear because he  _ can  _ now, and he hopes Iruka will let him do it again when they wake. “Because I’m going to love you long after the snow melts. I promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments always read and _very_ much appreciated, and I always do my best to get back to them ❤️
> 
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